Elia opened her mouth, her voice barely more than a whisper. "H-How about we run?"
Heath followed her gaze, his eyes narrowed, lips twitching into a bitter smile. "I don't think that guy's just going to stand there and let us."
Xin stepped forward, dagger already in hand. His stance dropped low, honed and ready. "Yeah… I don't think so either."
Vanessa, her expression unreadable, flicked her fingers sharply. Flames burst into being, coiling around her palm like a living serpent. "Then we fight. Get ready, Elia. Either fight... or die."
Those words hit Elia like a hammer. Her heart pounded in her ears, loud and frantic. Her knees trembled, her breath caught.
For a moment, she looked like she might break—her eyes glistened, as if tears would spill at any second.
But then she clenched her jaw. She forced her hands together, pressing them tight.
"[Blessed Armour]!"
